This morning I am continuing to write the story of how the human community came to live sustainably on the Earth by the year 3000. As I imagined what this might be like, I decided that we as a species discovered other ways of communicating with all the life around us, much as the shamans of many indigenous cultures. I also tried to put into historical perspective what animals might think about us, the two-leggeds.
The first chapter introduces the major characters in the book. So far, the reader has met Fran and Ridley from Alice Springs, Australia; Bidrha from the Gobi desert; Wangari from the African savannah; Yareen, a jaguar in the Sierra Madre, in Sonora, Mexico; the Elder, an old sycamore tree on the Lower Colorado river in the Sonoran desert, and now, Shira, an elephant on the African savannah.
This part of my book describes an actual event that occured in Erwin, Tennessee. I carry some baggage about it, as my Uncle was the man who was charged with carrying out the unbelieveable act described below. I only recently learned about it, and as a person who cares deeply about all forms of life, it made a deep impression on me. I decided to create a story where I can somehow resolve the generational guilt I feel about the hanging of a circus elephant named Mad Mary.
For those of you who are reading the sequel, I am bringing in the savannah in Africa, for which Wangari is a representative to the Federated Deserts Annual Meeting. Contiguous ecosystems are also present at these meetings since ecosystems blend into each other and each system's health is linked to the other's.
Chapter 1 Part Four
"She had a great memory, as all her line. A shutter rippled along her bulging, grey flank hanging in folds from her great age. In her blood line was one who suffered greatly, one whose grizzly death left an indelible scar on all her clan. Mad Mary's death by hanging in the verdant hills of Tennessee, a world away from her native savannah, was the lowest of the low in the two-legged - elephant relationship.
Driven mad from years in two-bit circus tents, poor diet, abuse, and utter loneliness, Shira's ancient relative died in agony as mountain men hoisted her scarred body on a railroad trestle and literally squeezed the last breath from her until she was released from hell on Earth.
That memory, and others like it from places where her clan members had been imprisoned, was passed to each new baby as a marker. She found these stories surreal and inconceivable in the present day cohabitation with humans. Both two-leggeds and Thunderers roamed the grasslands in peaceful cooperation. The yellow sea of grasses flourished with their presense. Her clan ate down the trees and shrubs that invaded the open savannah, and their waste nourished the soil. The Thunderers presence in the savannah helped to maintain its integrity. The two-leggeds came to learn.
Like all Earth's Children the act of remembering the Dark Ages was cultivated as part of one's duty to the Mother Earth and all life present - that never again should any of her creatures act with such disdain for any other life. Shira's clan mothers taught her about The Changes, when men and women among the two-leggeds began to understand the Great Law.
Shira rubbed against the massive flank of Sidah, her eldest son who was munching on the succulent leaves of an acacia tree. He wrapped his trunk gently around her head in a sweet embrace. Nearby Sidah's great love, the winsome Radha, nestled their new born underneath her smooth belly where the little one sucked hungrily from her full breast.
Shira looked out over the great clan happily grazing on the small trees and bushes along the edge of the African savannah. For as long as she remembered, the family was growing in numbers. The gentle two-leggeds of her day were welcome among them - they were called "Addah". They were the youngest among the earth's clans, God's most recent creation.
When the Addah came to the Thunderers, they humbly recognized the clan's great knowledge and historical memory, passed generation to generation. Just as the adults among the clan shaped their youngsters' character by teaching them the Life Protocol for all living beings on Earth, so now Addah came to learn from them. The clan of Thunderers moved slowly about the great savannah, stretching unencumbered for thousands of miles in every direction. Addah followed the Thundrerers on their daily saunters prompted wholly by whim, which the two-leggeds enjoyed immensely.
The great clan of Thunderers communicated by touch and passing of thoughts through the energy streams that surround all of Life in the universe. The Addah were learning to do this, too, but still created many varied sounds and sang and chattered like the three-leggeds that swung happily in trees along the tall forest's edge. Sidha has seen these furry, aerial acrobats when she was but a youngster. They delighted her as she stood and trumpeted their wild flings high above the forest floor. Imagine! God of Earth created such marvelous cousins. All of her life, Sidha experienced joy and wonderment, fulfilling the great Mother's wish for her living children, large and small.
Startled from her musings, Shira's grandbaby was nuzzling her old wrinkled tummy. She chuckled to herself and softly rumbled to the littlest clan member, caressing him with her soft pink nose. The baby smelled of new life - that sweet mother's-milk-aroma that made her at once a fierce protector and a gentle nurturerer. This was the Mother's gift of female-kind's duality, an image of the Mother 's own true nature.
A low rumbling passed like a wave among the males, alerting the clan's attention as an acrid odor of lion washed across the grassland. Tawny forms were visible only as undulations on a canvas of golden grass, occasionally broken by the penetrating dark of an eye. A reverberating roar spilled over the plain. The males trumpeted in return, acknowledging that all is well between these clans linked by the waving, golden sea.
The two-leggeds moved into the middle of the herd with the youngsters, walking in safety among their giant friends. Herds of the Hooved-Ones galloped in dark shadows in the tall grass. Like waves they adjusted their locations, ever alert to the muscled predators of their world.
In the year 3000 the savannah stretched across the horizon, its life forms richly woven into its interior. The Addah no longer dominated the community but were a small, integral part of it. Life flourished."
Sunday, December 11, 2005
Saturday, December 10, 2005
Dwellers at the Threshold -Three
"Ofelia and Bidrha chatted about news from home as they walked down the mountainside to a natural clearing where about 50 women sat under the canopy of small oaks. Their colorful apparel representing each desert homeland tradition, dappled the soft brown canvas of the desert.
Something about women's voices at a distance, thought Bidhra... like tinkling bells.
Wangari rose from her seat, a broad grin speading over her round face.
"Bidhra!" she sang forth, moving jauntily across the circle to engulf her tiny friend in the folds of her ample body. Everyone chuckled at the site.
"Wangari, I can't breathe!" Wangari let her go with a loud laugh and slid her arm around Bidrha's small shoulders.
"I've got this one taken care of," Wangari declared over her shoulder to Ofelia, as she led Bidhra to a table laden with food and beverages.
Ofelia heard the drumming and singing start up, and turned to greet another arrival.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nearby the gathering of women...
They lined the great river like tall guardians with thick intertwined arms. Their jigsaw patterned trunks of bronze, moss green, aqua blue, and soft yellow blended with the muted colors of the earth. Only the rushing red waters of the river demarked a border.
These were the titans connecting earth with sky, channeling life giving waters from under earth's skin up into the air above. Among them stood an Elder - a tree so broad and tall its roots caused the Earth to rise and curve with them, drawing water along their inclination.
Below the earth, unseen by human eye, roots met a tiny crawling army of yellow, gooey creatures - a living mat as vast as the forest itself. Upon this undulating sea of microbial life, the words of the Elder to members of the clan ran back and forth in a chemical language. Trees in need of nutrients were fed from areas of the forest rich in the needed elements. And so, did the Elder tend its tribe.
The Elder was a clan leader of great stature. From this old waterway, the Elder protected her clan and reported to the two-leggeds on all its living inhabitants, the featherd, furred, scaled and spineless members of the community. The Union of All Species felt the Mother Earth's heartbeat, checked her circulation an cleansing systems. Through the global leaders in each biome of life - an interspecies alliance - the Earth flourished and all therein, a part of Her living, breathing, changing body, hurtling through space together in God's vast kingdom.
Life on Earth reached a high level of consciousness when the two-leggeds gained new self-understanding and raised their conscience to that of all the plant and animal species. Their evolution was still young among Earth's species, but they were finally coming along. Their numbers decreased, and their violent past faded from memory.
Today's humans were finally of the indigenous mind: humble members of a colorful community of living beings whose very lives depended upon the health and well-being of their Mother.
They were ready. Soon the return of the Great Ones would come again upon the Earth."
Something about women's voices at a distance, thought Bidhra... like tinkling bells.
Wangari rose from her seat, a broad grin speading over her round face.
"Bidhra!" she sang forth, moving jauntily across the circle to engulf her tiny friend in the folds of her ample body. Everyone chuckled at the site.
"Wangari, I can't breathe!" Wangari let her go with a loud laugh and slid her arm around Bidrha's small shoulders.
"I've got this one taken care of," Wangari declared over her shoulder to Ofelia, as she led Bidhra to a table laden with food and beverages.
Ofelia heard the drumming and singing start up, and turned to greet another arrival.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nearby the gathering of women...
They lined the great river like tall guardians with thick intertwined arms. Their jigsaw patterned trunks of bronze, moss green, aqua blue, and soft yellow blended with the muted colors of the earth. Only the rushing red waters of the river demarked a border.
These were the titans connecting earth with sky, channeling life giving waters from under earth's skin up into the air above. Among them stood an Elder - a tree so broad and tall its roots caused the Earth to rise and curve with them, drawing water along their inclination.
Below the earth, unseen by human eye, roots met a tiny crawling army of yellow, gooey creatures - a living mat as vast as the forest itself. Upon this undulating sea of microbial life, the words of the Elder to members of the clan ran back and forth in a chemical language. Trees in need of nutrients were fed from areas of the forest rich in the needed elements. And so, did the Elder tend its tribe.
The Elder was a clan leader of great stature. From this old waterway, the Elder protected her clan and reported to the two-leggeds on all its living inhabitants, the featherd, furred, scaled and spineless members of the community. The Union of All Species felt the Mother Earth's heartbeat, checked her circulation an cleansing systems. Through the global leaders in each biome of life - an interspecies alliance - the Earth flourished and all therein, a part of Her living, breathing, changing body, hurtling through space together in God's vast kingdom.
Life on Earth reached a high level of consciousness when the two-leggeds gained new self-understanding and raised their conscience to that of all the plant and animal species. Their evolution was still young among Earth's species, but they were finally coming along. Their numbers decreased, and their violent past faded from memory.
Today's humans were finally of the indigenous mind: humble members of a colorful community of living beings whose very lives depended upon the health and well-being of their Mother.
They were ready. Soon the return of the Great Ones would come again upon the Earth."
Friday, December 09, 2005
Dwellers at the Threshold continued....
If you are reading my blog, you may recall that the first chapter of my new novel began with Fran and Ridley who live in Alice Springs, Australia. It is the year 3,000. Across the Earth a smaller human population is organized in federated govenments by biomes.
The world's human community has learned the value of earthkeeping. Each biome (desert, tropical forest, temperate forest, savannah, deciduous forests, tundra, etc.) has governments linked across the world according to the distinctive plants communities, weather and topography that define these ecosystems. Fran is getting ready to join fellow desert leaders at their annual meeting in southern Arizona in the Sonoran Desert.
In this part of the chapter, readers begin to learn that animals and plants are important partners with humans in monitoring the health of the earth. During the milennium after the great earth changes, humans began to communicate with trees, plants, and animals, rediscovering the ancient wisdom of earth's first people: all life has consciousness. Here we are introduced to one animal who will help Fran and her fellow delegates understand the state of the Sonoran desert in what was once called Mexico.
Chapter 1 continued...
"Across the world, Yareen made her way down a jagged escarpment on the Sierra Madre plateau. Her ebony and tawny flanks rippled with reflected sunlight through the pale green of manzanita and scrub oak. Falling pebbles pushed from their earthen beds by her great paws scattered noisily down the slope ahead of her.
Her mate roused from an afternoon nap in the tree high above her. He greeted her with a low rolling hello as she bound up the tree in which he lay. Yareen rubbed her head against his and breathed in his pungent scent, her golden eyes wide open with their reunion. They had been together for many sunrises and sunsets. Soon he would leave her and she would return to a solitary life and the birth of their cubs. It would be her second pregnancy.
They made their way to a pool of water in the bowl of the river for a swim, catching what fish or turtles that swam by. As they lingered by the water's edge, a trembling deer stood immobilized in the brush, caught unaware by their silent arrival. His breath was barely discernable. Later on the pair left the water's edge together and he could breath again. The great cats were more numerous as was so much of the community of wildlife.
On the other side of the world, in the ancient walls of a city long ago destroyed, Bidrha sat down upon a sacred spot where Earth's energy was strong - one of many energy grids discovered by Earth's people after the Great Conflagration and subsequent Age of Awakening.
Bidhra focused on her journey from the high plateau, ringed by mountains. Her breathing slowed and began its deep, pendalur rhythm. She could feel her body transfiguring into wave form. Her vision lifted suddenly. She was above the plains of the Gobi desert, now flying over the Himalayas, gaining velocity as her material form released to pure energy. Crossing the great blue ocean she winged through white clouds beneath a dome of azure sky. At a certain point her decent began by predetermined intent, tumbling energy down, down to a peak she could see now, on a mountain range bordering a city by a river that poured red on a southward race to a blue green ocean.
As she descended, her form began its rematerialization. She felt the tug of Earth, of mass - her body form so heavy now. When Bidhra opened her eyes she was greeted by a ring of elders drumming and singing her welcome, creating a space of positive energy, and blessing her arrival.
A woman of awesome stature, like a great tree, stepped forward to take her hand.
"Welcome, Bidhra, welcome to our homelands." Bidhra bowed her head and clasped her hands together, pulling them slowly below her chin as was the custom in her home.
"Do you need water. How do you feel?" Ofelia asked.
Bidrha felt a little unsteady. "I think I could use a little food to anchor my body to the Earth!"
Ofelia chuckled, "Come on, we have a feast going with the new arrivals. About half of us are here."
End of Section in Chapter 1: Dewellers at the Threshold.
Be well my friends! Let me know what you think about the story so far!
Susan
The world's human community has learned the value of earthkeeping. Each biome (desert, tropical forest, temperate forest, savannah, deciduous forests, tundra, etc.) has governments linked across the world according to the distinctive plants communities, weather and topography that define these ecosystems. Fran is getting ready to join fellow desert leaders at their annual meeting in southern Arizona in the Sonoran Desert.
In this part of the chapter, readers begin to learn that animals and plants are important partners with humans in monitoring the health of the earth. During the milennium after the great earth changes, humans began to communicate with trees, plants, and animals, rediscovering the ancient wisdom of earth's first people: all life has consciousness. Here we are introduced to one animal who will help Fran and her fellow delegates understand the state of the Sonoran desert in what was once called Mexico.
Chapter 1 continued...
"Across the world, Yareen made her way down a jagged escarpment on the Sierra Madre plateau. Her ebony and tawny flanks rippled with reflected sunlight through the pale green of manzanita and scrub oak. Falling pebbles pushed from their earthen beds by her great paws scattered noisily down the slope ahead of her.
Her mate roused from an afternoon nap in the tree high above her. He greeted her with a low rolling hello as she bound up the tree in which he lay. Yareen rubbed her head against his and breathed in his pungent scent, her golden eyes wide open with their reunion. They had been together for many sunrises and sunsets. Soon he would leave her and she would return to a solitary life and the birth of their cubs. It would be her second pregnancy.
They made their way to a pool of water in the bowl of the river for a swim, catching what fish or turtles that swam by. As they lingered by the water's edge, a trembling deer stood immobilized in the brush, caught unaware by their silent arrival. His breath was barely discernable. Later on the pair left the water's edge together and he could breath again. The great cats were more numerous as was so much of the community of wildlife.
On the other side of the world, in the ancient walls of a city long ago destroyed, Bidrha sat down upon a sacred spot where Earth's energy was strong - one of many energy grids discovered by Earth's people after the Great Conflagration and subsequent Age of Awakening.
Bidhra focused on her journey from the high plateau, ringed by mountains. Her breathing slowed and began its deep, pendalur rhythm. She could feel her body transfiguring into wave form. Her vision lifted suddenly. She was above the plains of the Gobi desert, now flying over the Himalayas, gaining velocity as her material form released to pure energy. Crossing the great blue ocean she winged through white clouds beneath a dome of azure sky. At a certain point her decent began by predetermined intent, tumbling energy down, down to a peak she could see now, on a mountain range bordering a city by a river that poured red on a southward race to a blue green ocean.
As she descended, her form began its rematerialization. She felt the tug of Earth, of mass - her body form so heavy now. When Bidhra opened her eyes she was greeted by a ring of elders drumming and singing her welcome, creating a space of positive energy, and blessing her arrival.
A woman of awesome stature, like a great tree, stepped forward to take her hand.
"Welcome, Bidhra, welcome to our homelands." Bidhra bowed her head and clasped her hands together, pulling them slowly below her chin as was the custom in her home.
"Do you need water. How do you feel?" Ofelia asked.
Bidrha felt a little unsteady. "I think I could use a little food to anchor my body to the Earth!"
Ofelia chuckled, "Come on, we have a feast going with the new arrivals. About half of us are here."
End of Section in Chapter 1: Dewellers at the Threshold.
Be well my friends! Let me know what you think about the story so far!
Susan
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
California Dreamin'
There is nothing like the landscapes and seacapes of southern California. On my Thanksgiving holiday I visited friends in Santa Monica and San Diego, returning to many of my favorite nature trails, and places of beauty. In spite of the runaway development, the land and sea hold sway over human activity.
In 1985 I moved to southern California from Westchester County, New York to settle my family in Laguna Beach. My former husband and I thought we had died and gone to heaven. First and foremost was the Big Blue Pacific Ocean that filled the panoramic view of our three story home on Blue Bird Canyon drive. We kept binoculars near our top floor jacuzzi to watch for the lumbering gray whales migrating from Alaska to Baja California for their seasonal mating and birthing season.
We swooned over a bugless atmosphere, havin endured the jet sized mosquitos and mayflies of the east coast for 15 years. Throwing open all the windows to feel the moist ocean air, breathing in the fragrance of flowers that bloom in ecstatic profusion...well, it was paradise.
Later of course I learned that the real flora and landscape of this area is mediterranean chaparral, with dense short aromatic shrubs, and small trees - a flora held in check and refreshed with fire every 25 to 30 years. Since the invasion of humans, bringing in trees and plants of all kinds from other parts of the world and suppressing the natural fire regimen, the chaparral ecology is hard to discern in and around the numerous towns that pepper the coastline. Fires are seen as tragic to us humans, but they are just a natural cycle of the land.
In Santa Monica my friend Cirelle lives in a condo near the ocean in one of the oldest sections of the city. It is a sweet place with blooming plants, orchids no less, and a short walk to the beach. She herself is pixie like, I think a result of living in beauty and gentle air for most of her life. We drove to Franklin Canyon north of Beverly Hills to meet our mutual friend Melinda. The three of us once led hikes in this canyon, cut through the hills between Coldwater Canyon Drive and Beverly Hills Blvd.
It had been 20 years since my last hike there. Cirelle and Melinda remained as docents for some time after I left for Arizona. Melinda took us on a tour through the grape arbor, natural enclaves shaded by towering sycamores and eucalyptus trees, scrub oak and mountain laurel below them. The heavy rains in southern California caused prolific growth in the understory. There must have been enough grapes produced this year to start a small winery!
We meandered along pine covered paths, down to the lake. It was originally a small reservoir, part of the LA water system, held by an earthen dam. During the 1979 earthquake in LA, it was damaged and later condemned. For years the little body of water sat, watched only by the LA Water Department. Then, as it became a natural flyway for migratory birds, neighbors began to walk in the canyon and discovered deer, fox, and oppossum. They got together and with the help of officials in LA and Bevely Hills had the canyon set aside as a nature preserve. Since then an education center has been built and many thousands of school children have been thrilled by its beauty and the surprise of its many inhabitants.
Later I drove down to San Elijo Lagoon near Encinitas, CA. It had always been one of my favorite hiking and meditation spots. The lagoon is one of the few remaining and protected marshes of a once vast system of coastal marshlands that lined the ocean shore for thousands of years. Chumash people fished, netted abalone the size of platters, and lived all summer along these marshes as recent as 200 years ago. I saw wood ducks, avocets, trumpeter swans, a great snowy egret and many shorebirds. American coots still dominate along the narrow, reed-lined canals and ponds that meander through the lagoon. Giant sycamores dot the rolling hillsides that fall down to the lagoon. Small group of hikers sat on the thick curving limbs under the canopy of its velvety, large leaves.
There is nothing like this place in the world. I have learned to look past the houses that now cut all the hilltops, and cover the hillsides. I close my ears to the roar of the freeway, and the drone of one SUV after another on the way somewhere. Even that I am at one time or another part of that frenzy I hold back from my thoughts, just to hold it all at bay so the beauty of the land can be the only dominate sensation.
But my return to the places we give enchanting names like Laguna Beach and San Elijo Lagoon prompts in me another California dream. I see a scaled back human community and the reflourishing of the natural land and waters. I hear fewer cars, maybe the silence of hydrogen powered vehicles spewing only water vapor into the cleaner air.
For Cirelle, Melinda and I, this is the dream we will hold, and in the meantime we will continue to visit and to protect - best as we can - the places of our inspiration and healing.
Be well my friends,
Susan
In 1985 I moved to southern California from Westchester County, New York to settle my family in Laguna Beach. My former husband and I thought we had died and gone to heaven. First and foremost was the Big Blue Pacific Ocean that filled the panoramic view of our three story home on Blue Bird Canyon drive. We kept binoculars near our top floor jacuzzi to watch for the lumbering gray whales migrating from Alaska to Baja California for their seasonal mating and birthing season.
We swooned over a bugless atmosphere, havin endured the jet sized mosquitos and mayflies of the east coast for 15 years. Throwing open all the windows to feel the moist ocean air, breathing in the fragrance of flowers that bloom in ecstatic profusion...well, it was paradise.
Later of course I learned that the real flora and landscape of this area is mediterranean chaparral, with dense short aromatic shrubs, and small trees - a flora held in check and refreshed with fire every 25 to 30 years. Since the invasion of humans, bringing in trees and plants of all kinds from other parts of the world and suppressing the natural fire regimen, the chaparral ecology is hard to discern in and around the numerous towns that pepper the coastline. Fires are seen as tragic to us humans, but they are just a natural cycle of the land.
In Santa Monica my friend Cirelle lives in a condo near the ocean in one of the oldest sections of the city. It is a sweet place with blooming plants, orchids no less, and a short walk to the beach. She herself is pixie like, I think a result of living in beauty and gentle air for most of her life. We drove to Franklin Canyon north of Beverly Hills to meet our mutual friend Melinda. The three of us once led hikes in this canyon, cut through the hills between Coldwater Canyon Drive and Beverly Hills Blvd.
It had been 20 years since my last hike there. Cirelle and Melinda remained as docents for some time after I left for Arizona. Melinda took us on a tour through the grape arbor, natural enclaves shaded by towering sycamores and eucalyptus trees, scrub oak and mountain laurel below them. The heavy rains in southern California caused prolific growth in the understory. There must have been enough grapes produced this year to start a small winery!
We meandered along pine covered paths, down to the lake. It was originally a small reservoir, part of the LA water system, held by an earthen dam. During the 1979 earthquake in LA, it was damaged and later condemned. For years the little body of water sat, watched only by the LA Water Department. Then, as it became a natural flyway for migratory birds, neighbors began to walk in the canyon and discovered deer, fox, and oppossum. They got together and with the help of officials in LA and Bevely Hills had the canyon set aside as a nature preserve. Since then an education center has been built and many thousands of school children have been thrilled by its beauty and the surprise of its many inhabitants.
Later I drove down to San Elijo Lagoon near Encinitas, CA. It had always been one of my favorite hiking and meditation spots. The lagoon is one of the few remaining and protected marshes of a once vast system of coastal marshlands that lined the ocean shore for thousands of years. Chumash people fished, netted abalone the size of platters, and lived all summer along these marshes as recent as 200 years ago. I saw wood ducks, avocets, trumpeter swans, a great snowy egret and many shorebirds. American coots still dominate along the narrow, reed-lined canals and ponds that meander through the lagoon. Giant sycamores dot the rolling hillsides that fall down to the lagoon. Small group of hikers sat on the thick curving limbs under the canopy of its velvety, large leaves.
There is nothing like this place in the world. I have learned to look past the houses that now cut all the hilltops, and cover the hillsides. I close my ears to the roar of the freeway, and the drone of one SUV after another on the way somewhere. Even that I am at one time or another part of that frenzy I hold back from my thoughts, just to hold it all at bay so the beauty of the land can be the only dominate sensation.
But my return to the places we give enchanting names like Laguna Beach and San Elijo Lagoon prompts in me another California dream. I see a scaled back human community and the reflourishing of the natural land and waters. I hear fewer cars, maybe the silence of hydrogen powered vehicles spewing only water vapor into the cleaner air.
For Cirelle, Melinda and I, this is the dream we will hold, and in the meantime we will continue to visit and to protect - best as we can - the places of our inspiration and healing.
Be well my friends,
Susan
Friday, November 25, 2005
Through a glass darkly
One thing about vacations is that you get a new mental space to consider how things are going in your life.
I am staying with two of my best friends, and shared Thanksgiving with them. They are both artists. Being in a space with them and the artfulness of their gardens, interior spaces, and observing the way they each regard the other is a gentle space for me to think about my own "posture in the world".
We forget how much our lives affect people and things around us. I remember the old eighties corporate lingo about a person's "area of influence". That is what I am experiencing at the lovely home of my friends. Their lives make me a better person, smooth out my rough edges, inspire me to wonder.
Only six days ago they put to rest their last parent between them. For the past three years my friends gently cared for two parents in this home near the Pacific Ocean. Through that time I listened and learned from them about what true love means. Day after day they applied ministrations of their love and respect, making each parent's last days as comfortable and beautiful as possible.
As we prepared Thanksgiving dinner together, I asked about how things would change for them now...now that they were free to return to their previous life focused on their own needs and desires. I learned that the greatest lesson learned was patience. Of slowing down and learning to enjoy what was at hand, and not what might be or anticipated.
When I awoke from a great night's sleep this morning that was on my mind. I remembered the Biblical verse "We see through a glass darkly...." How often life brings us something and we see only the one facet of it - until we go fully into it as my friends did. It changed everything about their previous life with its flow and its considerations. But then, it brought treasures, personal gifts like patience and joy in the ordinary.
My friends' mothers and fathers are gone physically from Earth. But they left their children a gift beyond measure that will make the rest of their lives worth living. And now I am benefitting from it too, reflecting on what they learned.
Being away from my routine, I suddenly get a glimpse of the reality of my life. Its about how I choose to treat my friends and family, strangers on the road of life, and even the earth herself. That's what this is all about and nothing less.
Peace my friends,
Susan
I am staying with two of my best friends, and shared Thanksgiving with them. They are both artists. Being in a space with them and the artfulness of their gardens, interior spaces, and observing the way they each regard the other is a gentle space for me to think about my own "posture in the world".
We forget how much our lives affect people and things around us. I remember the old eighties corporate lingo about a person's "area of influence". That is what I am experiencing at the lovely home of my friends. Their lives make me a better person, smooth out my rough edges, inspire me to wonder.
Only six days ago they put to rest their last parent between them. For the past three years my friends gently cared for two parents in this home near the Pacific Ocean. Through that time I listened and learned from them about what true love means. Day after day they applied ministrations of their love and respect, making each parent's last days as comfortable and beautiful as possible.
As we prepared Thanksgiving dinner together, I asked about how things would change for them now...now that they were free to return to their previous life focused on their own needs and desires. I learned that the greatest lesson learned was patience. Of slowing down and learning to enjoy what was at hand, and not what might be or anticipated.
When I awoke from a great night's sleep this morning that was on my mind. I remembered the Biblical verse "We see through a glass darkly...." How often life brings us something and we see only the one facet of it - until we go fully into it as my friends did. It changed everything about their previous life with its flow and its considerations. But then, it brought treasures, personal gifts like patience and joy in the ordinary.
My friends' mothers and fathers are gone physically from Earth. But they left their children a gift beyond measure that will make the rest of their lives worth living. And now I am benefitting from it too, reflecting on what they learned.
Being away from my routine, I suddenly get a glimpse of the reality of my life. Its about how I choose to treat my friends and family, strangers on the road of life, and even the earth herself. That's what this is all about and nothing less.
Peace my friends,
Susan
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
Swinging with Soul Music on the Eve of Thanksgiving
Listening to the Bee Gee's in the dark of early morining. KXCI is a fantastic radio station in Tucson that plays all kind of music. This morning it is Soul and '80's. Been up way too long. I am learning to navigate the wee hours of the morning now that I am in my sixth decade of life on Earth. Why is that? Clinging to the moments?
Getting ready to travel to visit good friends, and then on to visit more friends I have not physically been with for twenty years, though we have been in touch often with long phone calls. There is something about true friends: your relationship does not exist in time and space, but resides in the heart. So, we just carry our friendship wherever we are habiting at the moment.
Are you baking pies? Getting ready for Thanksgiving? My daughter has been in search of Durkey's Fried Green Beans for her delicious casserole. NPR featured an author of the book "Humble Pie" who is calling forth to the nation to revive the art of pie making! It made me realize I stopped making homemade pies about 15 years ago. Hawaiian Pie was my specialty: Eagle Brand Condensed Milk and egg custard with lemon flavoring; freshly ground coconut and crushed pineapple layers on top of that, and whipped cream and cherries on top; a layer of bananas on the pie crust before the thick custard filling is poured in. DEEEELLLICIOUS
I am giving Thanks for family and friends and the kitchens that will welcome me home. I think also of those in need, making sure I give something for a local pantry or soup kitchen to provide meals and food boxes for people struggling with hunger and poverty. Better yet, I will continue to work in my state and in congress to finally create a living wage for all the hard working Americans standing in the soup lines tomorrow. There are too many in this land of plenty. Let's work on that together, and enjoy Thanksgiving knowing we are creating home and safety for all.
Have a wonderful Thanksgiving!
Susan...swooning with Barry White
Getting ready to travel to visit good friends, and then on to visit more friends I have not physically been with for twenty years, though we have been in touch often with long phone calls. There is something about true friends: your relationship does not exist in time and space, but resides in the heart. So, we just carry our friendship wherever we are habiting at the moment.
Are you baking pies? Getting ready for Thanksgiving? My daughter has been in search of Durkey's Fried Green Beans for her delicious casserole. NPR featured an author of the book "Humble Pie" who is calling forth to the nation to revive the art of pie making! It made me realize I stopped making homemade pies about 15 years ago. Hawaiian Pie was my specialty: Eagle Brand Condensed Milk and egg custard with lemon flavoring; freshly ground coconut and crushed pineapple layers on top of that, and whipped cream and cherries on top; a layer of bananas on the pie crust before the thick custard filling is poured in. DEEEELLLICIOUS
I am giving Thanks for family and friends and the kitchens that will welcome me home. I think also of those in need, making sure I give something for a local pantry or soup kitchen to provide meals and food boxes for people struggling with hunger and poverty. Better yet, I will continue to work in my state and in congress to finally create a living wage for all the hard working Americans standing in the soup lines tomorrow. There are too many in this land of plenty. Let's work on that together, and enjoy Thanksgiving knowing we are creating home and safety for all.
Have a wonderful Thanksgiving!
Susan...swooning with Barry White
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
Dwellers at the Threshold
A gentle, warm morning on the Sonoran Desert. I have large, cream and pink-colored Moonstone rose blooming in my garden. Purple lantana, and the white, crinkled blossoms of native gourds enliven my tiny backyard garden today.
Please enjoy and let me know what you think of my novel Building Air Castles, about the year 3000 when the human community lives sustainably upon the Planet Earth.
Chapter 1 Dwellers at the Threshold
"Fran awoke with a start. Had she overslept again? The eventful day spread out before her as she rubbed her eyes and turned to Ridley who was hard asleep, a gentle snore issuing from his parted lips.
Fran sat up on one elbow, her glistening black hair flowing over the dark brown flesh of Ridley's muscular arm. A mischeivious grin spred over her angular face as her hand followed the contour of his back, arousing him. 'Hey, sleepy-head' she whispered. He rolled over. 'What time is it?' he muttered. Ridley reached around Fran and drew her into the crook of his embrace. This was Fran's favorite spot in the world, safe and warm in bed with the man she adored.
They would just stay in bed and let the world go spinning by, she thought. It had been six months since their Joining Ceremony, but it seemed as if she had always been with him. From childhood, when they first met at age six, Fran had known him - this man she would someday join with, the one chosen for her by her mother.
Flashes of his moon-shaped face encircled with orchids from his native Pohnpei, the pure white of his eyes against his chestnut skin, the fullness of his lips on that day they were joined. He radiated youthful beauty and joy. She saw his face - the man who always righted her world and anchored it in something timeless and good.
'Girl, you better get going or the rivers will run dry!'
She smothered him with her pillow and slowly extracted herself from their warm cacoon. Reluctantly, she plodded to the shower. Fran prepared for the journey across the world to high desert to her clan's lmeeting. This time was different though - she would take the lead as the new Chancellor of the Federated Deserts of the World.
As she let the cool waters flow over her warm skin, she thought back to the clan mothers of her line. From babyhood, Fran's clan mothers recognized a natural leader, a budding orator in the baby who talked very early and in full sentences. Even as a toddler her elocution was legend. She possessed the qualities of a peacemaker, and even more important - she was a Poet. In her day, it was the highest calling, the revered quality in a human being. A Poet provided a voice for Spirit to talk to humankind.
Being a poet and possessing a sense of the ironic came down an ancient blood line of matriarchs and patriarchs who kept alive the Great Learning from the dark ages of the Earth. Passed with care and diligence, the knowledge remained vibrant and responsive to each new generation's challenges and dreams. Now it was Fran's turn to guard the ancient wisdom for her clan.
'Are you ever coming out?!' Ridley's teasing baritone shook her back into the moment. 'I'll tell them my desert rat has just wasted enough water to grow a garden!'
Ridley had risen, his nakedness turning her to mush. How would she ever get by without him for a whole month? she mused darkly. Ridley began to sing his welcome song to the morning, standing on the patio of their tiny bungalo in the central desert of Australia. Before him spread the valley that held the community of Alice Springs.
The old expression 'fish out of water' came to mind as Fran dressed, wondering that Ridley made the leap from his tropical homeland to the red earth of the Gibson desert. Ayers Rock loomed in the distance as Fran looked out over the verdant valleyscape before her.
Fran was leaning over her duffle bag folding the last of her garments when she felt Ridley's arms encircle her, his warm breath on her neck. 'You dressed...how unfortunate."
She would be half an hour late leaving the house."
Peace,
Susan
Please enjoy and let me know what you think of my novel Building Air Castles, about the year 3000 when the human community lives sustainably upon the Planet Earth.
Chapter 1 Dwellers at the Threshold
"Fran awoke with a start. Had she overslept again? The eventful day spread out before her as she rubbed her eyes and turned to Ridley who was hard asleep, a gentle snore issuing from his parted lips.
Fran sat up on one elbow, her glistening black hair flowing over the dark brown flesh of Ridley's muscular arm. A mischeivious grin spred over her angular face as her hand followed the contour of his back, arousing him. 'Hey, sleepy-head' she whispered. He rolled over. 'What time is it?' he muttered. Ridley reached around Fran and drew her into the crook of his embrace. This was Fran's favorite spot in the world, safe and warm in bed with the man she adored.
They would just stay in bed and let the world go spinning by, she thought. It had been six months since their Joining Ceremony, but it seemed as if she had always been with him. From childhood, when they first met at age six, Fran had known him - this man she would someday join with, the one chosen for her by her mother.
Flashes of his moon-shaped face encircled with orchids from his native Pohnpei, the pure white of his eyes against his chestnut skin, the fullness of his lips on that day they were joined. He radiated youthful beauty and joy. She saw his face - the man who always righted her world and anchored it in something timeless and good.
'Girl, you better get going or the rivers will run dry!'
She smothered him with her pillow and slowly extracted herself from their warm cacoon. Reluctantly, she plodded to the shower. Fran prepared for the journey across the world to high desert to her clan's lmeeting. This time was different though - she would take the lead as the new Chancellor of the Federated Deserts of the World.
As she let the cool waters flow over her warm skin, she thought back to the clan mothers of her line. From babyhood, Fran's clan mothers recognized a natural leader, a budding orator in the baby who talked very early and in full sentences. Even as a toddler her elocution was legend. She possessed the qualities of a peacemaker, and even more important - she was a Poet. In her day, it was the highest calling, the revered quality in a human being. A Poet provided a voice for Spirit to talk to humankind.
Being a poet and possessing a sense of the ironic came down an ancient blood line of matriarchs and patriarchs who kept alive the Great Learning from the dark ages of the Earth. Passed with care and diligence, the knowledge remained vibrant and responsive to each new generation's challenges and dreams. Now it was Fran's turn to guard the ancient wisdom for her clan.
'Are you ever coming out?!' Ridley's teasing baritone shook her back into the moment. 'I'll tell them my desert rat has just wasted enough water to grow a garden!'
Ridley had risen, his nakedness turning her to mush. How would she ever get by without him for a whole month? she mused darkly. Ridley began to sing his welcome song to the morning, standing on the patio of their tiny bungalo in the central desert of Australia. Before him spread the valley that held the community of Alice Springs.
The old expression 'fish out of water' came to mind as Fran dressed, wondering that Ridley made the leap from his tropical homeland to the red earth of the Gibson desert. Ayers Rock loomed in the distance as Fran looked out over the verdant valleyscape before her.
Fran was leaning over her duffle bag folding the last of her garments when she felt Ridley's arms encircle her, his warm breath on her neck. 'You dressed...how unfortunate."
She would be half an hour late leaving the house."
Peace,
Susan
Monday, November 21, 2005
Novel in progress
Hi. Two cups of coffee into the day. Great fair trade coffee from Guatamala, roasted in Tucson.
I mentioned yesterday that I am writing a fiction novel about the year 3000. In that year, when the novel opens, people belong to federated governments depending on the biome in which they live. (A biome is a large area of land or water that can be characterized by its dominant plant forms - temperate forest, tropical forest, desert, tundra, grasslands, plankton.) So, if you live in the Atacama or Patagonian deserts in South America, you are affiliated with people in Australia (central deserts); Mongolia, China (Gobi and turkestan deserts); Saudia Arabia and Iran/Iraq (Arabian, Iranian, and Thar deserts); North America and Mexico (Sonoran Desert, Mojave Deserts); Africa (Sahara, Kalihari, Namib deserts). In this way, people are linked across the globe with mutual concerns about the environment that supports their way of life.
In the year 3000 people recognize a key role of humans as earth keepers, of being responsible for what is taken for human use - a profound shift away from our current way of thinking in most developed nations. In the frame of reference of people whose relatives survived the dramatic earth changes of the 21st century, due to climate change and overharvesting world resources, this makes perfect sense.
Another sea change in human organization came about in response to the human community's desire to avoid violent conflict at all costs. Following Iroquois governmental structure, the world community decided that marriages should take place across biomes, and not within them. So, if you are from the desert, you can not marry someone from a desert biome. This means that people in any biome will hesitate to bring war or violence against other biomes because they will be populated with their relatives!
The story opens in Alice Springs, Australia as we meet Fran and Ridley. Fran is getting ready to attend the Federated Deserts of the World's annual conference. She is the newly elected Chairwoman.
That's all for now. Peace to all who read this blog....
Susan
I mentioned yesterday that I am writing a fiction novel about the year 3000. In that year, when the novel opens, people belong to federated governments depending on the biome in which they live. (A biome is a large area of land or water that can be characterized by its dominant plant forms - temperate forest, tropical forest, desert, tundra, grasslands, plankton.) So, if you live in the Atacama or Patagonian deserts in South America, you are affiliated with people in Australia (central deserts); Mongolia, China (Gobi and turkestan deserts); Saudia Arabia and Iran/Iraq (Arabian, Iranian, and Thar deserts); North America and Mexico (Sonoran Desert, Mojave Deserts); Africa (Sahara, Kalihari, Namib deserts). In this way, people are linked across the globe with mutual concerns about the environment that supports their way of life.
In the year 3000 people recognize a key role of humans as earth keepers, of being responsible for what is taken for human use - a profound shift away from our current way of thinking in most developed nations. In the frame of reference of people whose relatives survived the dramatic earth changes of the 21st century, due to climate change and overharvesting world resources, this makes perfect sense.
Another sea change in human organization came about in response to the human community's desire to avoid violent conflict at all costs. Following Iroquois governmental structure, the world community decided that marriages should take place across biomes, and not within them. So, if you are from the desert, you can not marry someone from a desert biome. This means that people in any biome will hesitate to bring war or violence against other biomes because they will be populated with their relatives!
The story opens in Alice Springs, Australia as we meet Fran and Ridley. Fran is getting ready to attend the Federated Deserts of the World's annual conference. She is the newly elected Chairwoman.
That's all for now. Peace to all who read this blog....
Susan
Sunday, November 20, 2005
Singular Moment
There are a pair of house wrens sitting in my palo verde tree, swaying in a gentle east wind on Sunday morning. They are oblivious to this singular moment in my life, the advent of my first blog to the world "out there".
It's amazing that everyone of us "little people" can now blog our hearts out, having our say, and connecting with readers in every nook and cranny of the earth. So, here goes!
Write for Change is both my business and personal practice. I prepare grant proposals, write articles, conduct research and write reports - for the people and businesses I believe in. I also write articles, essays and books about nature and society.
For years I worked for universities, school districts, and other large corporate groups, and frankly it killed my creativity and zest for life. To me American corporate worklife is debilitating. Not only do we work too much, but we are forced into schedules that may or may not fit with our own natural biorythms, and we rarely ever get a chance to do what it in our hearts.
For years I lived in this manner, always dreaming of when I would write my book, or create something.
So, about three years ago I stepped out of that paradigm into a new one I created for myself. It's been kind of scary sometimes, not having much money in the bank and now having to pick up my own medical, etc. etc. But, let me tell you - it's been worth every moment of doubt!
Over the last three years I finally wrote a memoir - a record of my political coming of age. Trying to find a publisher right now. My rejection rate to date is currently 60% (3 out of 5 publishers). If I get to 100% I intend to publish the damn thing myself and put it online!
My latest adventure is a fiction book about the year 3000. It is my attempt to bring a positive vision of how the human community learns to live sustainably on the earth. Naturally, I had to obliterate all current geopolitical boundaries and establish a new way for humans to organize themselves!
I will be featuring segments of the book on this blog and hope you will join me in figuring out how we get from 2005 when the world is in a real mess, to 3000 when human communities live within an ecologically sustainable paradigm with all the rest of life on earth.
Till then,
Susan
It's amazing that everyone of us "little people" can now blog our hearts out, having our say, and connecting with readers in every nook and cranny of the earth. So, here goes!
Write for Change is both my business and personal practice. I prepare grant proposals, write articles, conduct research and write reports - for the people and businesses I believe in. I also write articles, essays and books about nature and society.
For years I worked for universities, school districts, and other large corporate groups, and frankly it killed my creativity and zest for life. To me American corporate worklife is debilitating. Not only do we work too much, but we are forced into schedules that may or may not fit with our own natural biorythms, and we rarely ever get a chance to do what it in our hearts.
For years I lived in this manner, always dreaming of when I would write my book, or create something.
So, about three years ago I stepped out of that paradigm into a new one I created for myself. It's been kind of scary sometimes, not having much money in the bank and now having to pick up my own medical, etc. etc. But, let me tell you - it's been worth every moment of doubt!
Over the last three years I finally wrote a memoir - a record of my political coming of age. Trying to find a publisher right now. My rejection rate to date is currently 60% (3 out of 5 publishers). If I get to 100% I intend to publish the damn thing myself and put it online!
My latest adventure is a fiction book about the year 3000. It is my attempt to bring a positive vision of how the human community learns to live sustainably on the earth. Naturally, I had to obliterate all current geopolitical boundaries and establish a new way for humans to organize themselves!
I will be featuring segments of the book on this blog and hope you will join me in figuring out how we get from 2005 when the world is in a real mess, to 3000 when human communities live within an ecologically sustainable paradigm with all the rest of life on earth.
Till then,
Susan
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